Hello, Kitty
by LadyofDodge
Summary: Kitty Russell's high-heeled boots clicked across the polished floor of Kansas City's Grand Hotel. Aware that every male eye in the lobby was focused on her movements, she held her stylishly coiffed head high as she signed the register.
1. Chapter 1

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Note: The idea for this story belongs to my friend Rita, who also contributed to the writing. Also, Charlotte and Ira Pennington and **_**The New Orleans Lady**_** of "Haunted Heart" fame, appear with the generous permission of their creator, Amanda (MAHC).**

**Kitty Russell's high-heeled boots clicked across the polished floor of Kansas City's Grand Hotel. Aware that every male eye in the lobby was focused on her movements, she held her stylishly coiffed head high and followed the uniformed bellboy to the registration desk, signed her name and procured the key to her previously reserved suite of rooms. **

**Minutes later on the fifth floor, she tipped the bellboy and ushered him from the room. Turning the key in the lock, she leaned her back against the door and pushed out a small sigh, thinking of a bath, food and a good night's sleep—in that order. The train from New Orleans had been late getting into the city and she was too tired, and too cranky, to change clothes and take supper in the hotel dining room. **

**With that in mind, she took a champagne-colored silk nightgown and matching robe from one of the many valises stacked against the wall and carried the ensemble with her into the adjoining bathroom. Forty minutes later, refreshed in both body and spirit, she returned to the bedroom, and a****s she dialed the desk to order a light meal of fresh fruit, potato soup and coffee from room service, she wondered idly if Mr. Bell's invention had yet made its way to Dodge City. Shaking her head at the direction her thoughts had taken, she unpacked while she waited for the food to arrive.**

**Later, her supper finished, she wheeled the serving cart outside the door, poured a generous glass of Napoleon Brandy and climbed into bed to read the schedule of the next day's activities. With a frown at the hour of the opening session, she left a wake-up call for seven o'clock in the morning, turned out the lamp and went to sleep.**

**x**

**Several floors below, U.S. Marshal Matt Dillon finished his solitary supper in the hotel dining room and glanced into the bar before deciding against a nightcap. Instead, he stopped by the desk and left a wake-up call for seven. He had an early morning engagement, and even though he was accustomed to waking in the pre-dawn hours, he didn't want to risk sleeping through his appointment. He rode the elevator to the third floor of the hotel, covered the distance down the empty corridor to his room in a few long strides and bolted the door behind him. Alone in his spartan room, he placed his gunbelt on the bedside table, removed his boots and leaned back against the pillows, feigning interest in the evening edition of the **_**Kansas City Gazette**_**.**

**XXXXXX**

**Dressed in an elegant rust colored business suit for the day's meetings with vendors, Kitty entered the hotel breakfast room and followed the maître d' to a small table. She read the menu and placed her order with the waiter. Removing the day's schedule of events from her reticule, she glanced over it again, noting starting times and ticking off sessions she especially wanted to attend. Without warning, her heart began to pound with a ferocity she hadn't known in… well, twenty-six months, to be exact. It may have been more than two years since she had last seen him, but the magnetic pull was still there, just as strong as ever, and it lifted her head and turned her sapphire eyes in the direction of a group of men seated at a table in the far corner of the room. One chair was empty, and then she saw a giant of a man bending over the heavy silver coffee service on the sideboard. The man's face was hidden by a marble column, but there was no mistaking that towering height, those broad shoulders. And hell, even if there **_**was**_** someone else west of the Mississippi who fit that description, this man was wearing the unmistakable gray tweed courtin' coat she had watched Wilbur Jonas fit on him two decades earlier. Besides, her pounding heart didn't lie.**

**If flight had been an option, she would have taken it, but exiting the room would put her directly in the path of the man who had turned and was walking in her direction, long legs propelling him all too quickly toward her table.**

**Anyone who did not know him as well as she did might have missed the fleeting look of uncertainty that flickered in his sky blue eyes as he approached—the beloved face a bit more weathered, the unruly curls a bit longer and grayer, the once concealed limp a bit more pronounced. And now he stood by the table, towering over her. "Hello, Kitty."**

**The poker face that had served her well for so many years slid smoothly into place and she tilted her head upward. "Hello, Matt."**

"**What are you…."**

"…**.doing here?"**

**The simultaneous inquiries brought a slight smile to both faces and the first awkward moment passed. **

"**You first." Matt nodded down at her.**

"**Business. A convention. You?"**

"**A trial." He frowned. "In fact, I have to get over to the court house right now. If it were anything else, I'd stay and talk to you, but this…I can't…a man's life... I…I'm sorry, Kitty."**

**A shadow of remembrance crossed her face. "Go on, Matt. It was good to see you."**

**On an impulse, he leaned over to bring his face closer to hers. "Have supper with me tonight, Kitty. Here at the hotel. Or any place you want." He held his breath as he waited for her response. "Please?"**

**She hesitated a moment and then nodded. "I'll meet you in the main dining room at seven…and, Matt, I do understand about the trial."**

**His hand rested on her shoulder so briefly, so lightly, it might have been a passing breeze. "I'll see you later, Kitty."**

**XXXXXX**

**For Kitty, the morning and afternoon passed in a blur of vendors and sales pitches for the newest advances in saloon equipment. Promptly at seven, hands icy with nerves, she arrived at the open French doors that marked the lobby entrance to the hotel's main dining room. Before the maître d' could offer assistance, a strong hand gripped her elbow and a rich voice spoke in her ear. "I have a table for us, Kitty." **

**Willing herself to breathe normally, she turned and tilted her head upward, looking directly into the face of the man she had loved for more than two decades. He was freshly shaved and she inhaled his scent—saddle leather and soap, sun-baked prairie and pine—just one of the many things she had missed these last two years. "You're looking good, Matt."**

"**So are you." His eyes smiled down at her as they appreciatively took in the deep green taffeta dinner dress. The color accentuated her shining red hair, and the square neckline was cut fashionably low, revealing the pulse throbbing in her throat. He extended his arm. "Shall we?" **

**Dinner in a secluded alcove of the dining room was pleasant, with companionable conversation about Dodge and Doc and Festus, interspersing gentle memories of their years together with cautious snippets of their lives apart. Matt caught Kitty up on the latest events in Dodge City, and, although he truly was not the most proficient of gossips, she was mesmerized by the beloved voice, whatever the words, and it mattered not that a recent letter from Doc had already provided a more entertaining tale of Percy Crump and the lost corpse. **

"**Your turn, Kitty. How's life in New Orleans?" **

"**Warm," she answered, for to say 'fine' or 'wonderful' would have been to lie. And she proceeded to tell him about **_**The New Orleans Lady**_**, the floating gambling palace she owned in partnership with Ira Pennington, her cousin Charlotte's husband. "It's a paddle wheeler. We're docked in New Orleans, of course, but we travel up river as far as Memphis and maybe next year we'll go on to St. Louis. We have poker and faro tables, keno and music. In time, I'd like to book entertainers and add fine dining. Right now we have a saloon that's as grand as anything you'll find on any river in the country. That's why I'm here, really. **_**The Lady**_**'s in need of some equipment for the bar, and this convention seemed like a perfect opportunity to see all of the newest amenities in one place."**

**When supper was finished and the plates had been cleared, Matt took a swallow of coffee and stared into his cup for a long moment. Then he raised his head, looked directly at her and quietly asked the question that had been eating at him for the last twenty-six months. "Why, Kitty?"**

**She dropped her head and stared into her own cup for another long moment. Then she spoke softly. "I'd really rather not talk about it, Matt. I sent a note to you through Doc. He did give it to you, didn't he?"**

"**He gave it to me. And I understand you didn't want me to contact you or to ask questions, and I've respected your wishes. But now that we've run into each other, won't you at least tell me why you left?"**

**She hesitated. For two years she had been trying to convince herself that Dodge City, Kansas, was just a dot on the map and one more piece of her past. Now it—or at least its big marshal—was sitting directly in front of her, every bit as dear to her as ever.**

**He reached across the table and laid his hand on her forearm. "Please?" **

**Her skin tingled at his touch. She saw the pain in his eyes and knew she couldn't deny him an explanation. "All right. I'll tell you, but not here. We can talk in my room." **

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Part 2**

**Matt paid the bill, and they rode the gilded elevator to the fifth floor in silence. At the door to room 512, Kitty stopped. He took the key from her hand, inserted it into the lock and stepped back so that she could precede him into the sitting room of her suite. **

**She turned up the lamp by the settee and dropped her reticule on the table. "Sit down, Matt. Can I buy you a drink? The distributors were most generous with their samples today."**

**He placed his Stetson on top of the reticule, laid his gun belt next to it and lowered his long frame onto the sofa. "Sounds good."**

**Her hands were shaking so badly the square Jack Daniel's bottle clinked against the rims of the cut crystal glasses as she splashed generous amounts of whiskey into both. She carried them across the room, handed one to Matt and sat down at the opposite end of the sofa. "Try this."**

**He took a swallow. "Nice," he smiled.**

**She smiled back and added lightly, "Most of my new patrons appreciate whiskey a bit more refined than the rotgut that seemed to satisfy the drovers and drifters who passed through Dodge."**

"**And cow town lawmen," he added, a trace of quiet bitterness in his voice. **

"**I didn't mean it that way. First of all, you're a United States Marshal, not a cow town lawman, and second, there's always been a quiet dignity and class about you. You're a gentleman, Matt, and a gentle man, too."**

"**So then I guess you didn't leave because I'm an insensitive clod." Suddenly angry, he angled his body to face her. "Why **_**did**_** you leave, Kitty? I've wondered about that, you know." He watched her flinch visibly at his unexpected and uncharacteristic tone, but he continued. "What did I do wrong? At least tell me that. Please."**

"**Oh, Matt, you didn't do anything wrong! Is that what you've been thinking all this time?"**

"**What else would I think?" **

**She couldn't allow him to continue to blame himself for her leaving, and her voice was low and hesitant as she lifted her eyes to his. "Matt, I didn't leave because of anything you did…or didn't do. I left because you were…because you were...dead…or I thought you were." **

**He watched her struggle with the words and his voice softened. "I understand that, Kitty, and I'm sorry about…about what you must have gone through. But I had no control over anything that was happening to me…to any of us."**

"**I know that, Matt. Now. But I didn't know it then. What I knew, and what Doc knew, too, was that it was way too soon for you to go out on the trail again. You worked so hard to rehabilitate yourself, but you'd been back in town less than a week. Your gun hand wasn't healed enough for you to take off after a gang of bank robbers by yourself. You were still using that left-handed draw, for God's sake. Festus would have gone with you—or Newly. Or you could have picked up one of the deputies from Jetmore or Kinsley, but no, you had to do it your way."**

"**Kitty, I…." **

"**Don't interrupt. Please. You asked me to tell you why I left. And I'm telling you—**_**my**_** way," she added with a trace of a smile in her voice. "Every day I prayed there'd be some word, but there wasn't. Six months went by with nothing, not one single word. For six months I waited and watched and worried. Festus and Newly scoured every town in the territory and every canyon and cave and blade of grass in between. We asked every stage driver who came into town if he had seen or heard anything. Doc and I devoured the out of town newspapers. We sent telegrams to every lawman in every town that had a telegraph office. Nothing. You just disappeared."**

**She paused to take a deep breath and a swallow of whiskey before continuing. "Then an envelope came containing your badge and identification papers. And there was a letter, too, saying you had been killed in a gunfight in Mexico. It went to the marshal's office, of course. Newly brought it to me. He and Festus had no choice but to forward it to the War Department. And the War Department accepted it as genuine. Seems as if, after six months with no contact, the government presumes a missing lawman to be dead, closes the books on him and sends in a replacement." She gave him a wry smile. "It's very simple, really—very efficient." **

**She took another long swallow of the bracing liquid and said quietly, "This next part is difficult for me, Matt, and I'm not even sure I can make you understand, but I'll try. When the letter came, it was…" Her voice faltered, but she went on. "God forgive me…it was a relief. Finally, I could stop worrying about you and I could stop waiting for the day I had always dreaded—the day the worst would happen. For it **_**had**_** happened. Matt Dillon was dead. Time was when I thought I couldn't live without you. But I was wrong. I discovered I could go on living—sort of. But not in Dodge. Too many memories…too many ghosts. Too many pitying looks. So, I contacted Hannah about running the Long Branch, bought my ticket and left. For New Orleans, where I could mourn for you and bury our past in a place where I wouldn't see you in every shadow, wouldn't hear your voice in every rustle of the wind, wouldn't…" **

**She shook her head. "I had just bought the paddle wheeler and started the business when the telegram came from Doc saying you had sent a wire…that you were alive and on your way home. I actually bought a ticket back to Dodge, but I…I couldn't bring myself to use it. For the first time in nineteen years I wasn't spending every hour of every day worrying about you, wondering if you were sick or hurt or…or…if you were coming back. The War Department said you were dead and…and I thought it best if you—and our past—stayed that way." Exhausted, she paused and took a shaky breath before adding, "And, Matt, I do appreciate that you've honored my request not to contact me." **

**He started to reach for her, but drew back, uncertain. "Then you don't…don't hate me? You aren't mad at me?"**

**She sighed and shook her head. "Hardly." She paused, and matching blue eyes seared each other's souls. Her arms ached to hold him, but she couldn't let her guard down now. "I...I'm very tired, Matt. I think it would be best if you'd leave now."**

**He finished his drink in a single swallow, stood and reached for his gun belt and hat. "Will you have breakfast with me tomorrow, say eight o'clock?"**

**She nodded. "I'd like that."**

**They walked to the door; with his hand on the knob, he turned back. "May I kiss you good-night?"**

**She nodded again. "I'd like that, too." **

**He widened his stance to lower his tall frame to her level. One long index finger tipped her chin upward and his hooded eyes bore into hers. "Just so you know, Kitty, our past isn't dead. It's every bit as alive as I am." Then he bent his head, and, for the first time in twenty-six months, she felt the soft brush of Matt Dillon's lips on hers. His kiss was brief, it was gentle, and it left her trembling.**

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Part 3**

**At breakfast Matt agreed, although a tad reluctantly, to accompany Kitty to the Missouri side of the river that night for a performance of Shakespeare's **_**A Midsummer Night's Dream **_**at the Gillis Opera House. "You know I'm not going to understand half of what's going on."**

"**It's a comedy, Matt, you'll be fine."**

**But the first act had barely begun when Kitty began to wonder if **_**she**_** would be fine. She had read the play as a school girl, but had forgotten much. Now, with Matt so close beside her, the love story of Hermia and Lysander made her shift uncomfortably in her seat, and she cast a sideways glance at the big man on her left.**

**At intermission he leaned close to her, admiring the décolletage of her black silk, off-the-shoulder evening dress, and grinned. "I'm not sure I'm getting all of this, but I will say that Shakespeare fellow knows his stuff."**

**Her long lashes swept upward. "What do you mean?"**

"**You know, that part about **_**'The course of true love never did run smooth.'**_**"**

**Kitty remained silent, thinking perhaps this had not been the best choice of an evening's entertainment after all.**

**Later, during an after-theatre supper, Matt voiced the subject each had been avoiding all evening. "The trial ended this afternoon, so I'll be heading back to Dodge in the morning."**

"**I'll be leaving, too. I have a reservation on the **_**Southern Star. **_**It leaves at three in the afternoon."**

"**Then I'll see you off and take the later train."**

**She shook her head. "That's not necessary, Matt. In fact…"**

**He stopped her. "Kitty, I didn't get to say good-bye to you two years ago. Please, let me do it this time."**

**x**

**A hired carriage took them back across the river to the hotel. Matt again walked her to her door and took her key in his hand, brushing her fingers as he did so. "I had a good time tonight," he said as he inserted the key into the lock and turned it.**

"**I did, too, Matt. Thanks for going with me. You want a nightcap?"**

"**I don't think so. It's late. See you at breakfast?"**

"**Of course. Good night, Matt."**

**He hesitated a fraction of a second, then slipped one long arm around her shoulders and drew her close. "It's been great seeing you again, Kitty." He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers in a soft kiss. **

**At the touch of his mouth on hers, he felt her right arm reach around his waist as she moved closer into his embrace. For a brief moment he deepened the kiss and then stepped away before she could feel his body's instant response to her nearness. "Morning will be here soon. I better go."**

**She nodded numbly and stepped inside the open door of her suite, but her feet sped her back into the hallway, and her voice called, "Matt," in a shaky whisper.**

**He turned, hope clear on his rugged face. **

"**You don't have to go—unless you really want to, of course."**

**Three long strides put him in front of her again, hands gripping her creamy shoulders. "I want to stay, Kitty...more than anything in this world." His eyes scanned hers. "But you do know what will happen, don't you?" **

**Trembling, she leaned against the wall for support and nodded. "I know."**

**His hands slid to her upper arms, thumbs skimming the sides of her breasts. "Are you sure, Kitty? Are you absolutely sure?"**

**She nodded again. "I'm sure, Matt. Let's go inside."**

**Inside the suite, he tossed his hat in the direction of the nearest table and took her into his arms. "Kitty..."** **He pressed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder and burrowed his face into the soft curve of her neck. Drawing a deep breath, he whispered,** **"This is what I've wanted to do ever since I saw you at breakfast yesterday." **

**A moment more he inhaled her soft lilac scent, and then he lifted his face from her neck and covered her mouth with a warm, slow kiss that quickly gave way to the passion each had so long been denied. He felt her rise on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, the fingers of one hand lacing into the gray curls at its nape as she pressed into him. His voice was rough with longing as he murmured against her temple. "Kitty, I've never wanted you more than I do right now, but if this isn't…if you want to change your mind, I'll understand."**

**Keeping one arm around his neck, her other hand moved down his chest and she slid two fingers into the open space between the buttons of his shirt, relishing the feel of his warm skin against her cool fingertips. She began to undo the buttons, sliding her palm inside the larger opening. "Matt, I've spent two long years wishing for another night in your arms. No way am I going to change my mind now." **

**She finished unbuttoning his shirt, undid the string tie at his neck, and slipped them both from his body along with the old tweed jacket. Her lips moved against his scarred chest, whispering, "I have missed you so much."**

**He moaned into her auburn curls, "I've missed you, too, Kitty, more than I could ever tell you."**

**He turned her around, one huge hand gliding over her stomach while the other began fumbling with the tiny fabric-covered buttons at the back of her evening dress—a long, slow process made longer and slower by frequent pauses to press gentle kisses against the back of her neck and shoulders. When he finally dropped the bodice to her waist, his breath caught as her pale, smooth back was revealed to his gaze, the two tiny scars of old bullet wounds shining in the lamplight and filling him once again with guilt and remorse. He lowered his head and allowed his lips to caress first one and then the other. "Sweet," he whispered. "Sweet."**

**Her breasts grazed his chest as she turned in his arms and deftly worked the fastenings of the gun belt, removing it from around his hips and placing it carefully on the nearest table. Next came the big silver belt buckle and, again, her slender fingers worked the prong and then the buttons on his pants as he breathed raggedly against the top of her head. **

"**Boots," she murmured, and watched him step away from her soft body a moment to toe them and his socks off and return to her arms as quickly as possible. **

**She slipped her hand inside his waistband, her fingers skimming the still flat, taut planes of his stomach. A low groan escaped his throat, "Dear God, Kitty, it's been two years…please."**

**With a deliciously wicked grin, she looked up at him as her hands gave a practiced pull, sending trousers and long johns to the floor with a single tug. Her eyes twinkled as they scanned downward, her grin widening, first in appreciation as she took in the long, muscular length of his body, and then in amusement at the deep flush that suffused his tanned face. **

"**You're askin' for it, Red." He grinned back as he caught her around the waist and worked the black silk dress and matching undergarments over her hips and down her thighs to fall in a shimmery pool at her feet. **

**Holding her at arms' length, his eyes—now blazing blue slits of desire—devoured the body of the woman whose image had filled his dreams. Then he kissed her fingertips and led her through the soft glow of the lamplight to the bed.**

**When he hesitated at the footboard, she moved behind him, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her lips against his spine. "Something wrong?"**

**Her touch raised goose bumps on his skin as he turned to face her. "I'm a little nervous here, Kitty,"** **he confessed quietly.**

**"Nothin' to be nervous about, Cowboy. We've done this a thousand," she gave him an impish grin, "more likely a million, times."** **She caressed his chest and then moved away to turn down the blue satin coverlet.**

**He grinned back. "Yeah." Then he lowered his big body onto the sheets and drew her down on top of him, reveling in the feel of her soft skin against his own. **

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Part 4**

**Kitty opened her eyes in the morning light and smiled down at the man still sleeping in the circle of her left arm, head pillowed on her breast, warm breath tickling her skin, one long leg sprawled across her right hip. **

**A slight shift of her body woke him and he lifted his head, eyes gentle with love as they smiled into hers, voice still raspy with sleep as he spoke. "Morning...you all right?"**

**Her face flushed under his steady gaze, but the sapphire eyes that met his were loving and sure. "You have no idea how very all right I am." Then she slid one hand down his back, lightly touching a series of unfamiliar raised scars she had noticed the night before. "You gonna tell me what happened in Mexico?" **

"**No." **

**Her fingers tenderly traced the welts. "They beat you, didn't they?" **

**After a moment, he breathed out, "Yeah."**

"**Oh, Matt, I'm so sorry—sorry for everything that happened, and sorry I wasn't there to…to…"**

"**Shhh…it's over. It doesn't matter now." Calloused fingers silenced her lips and brushed away the tears that started to form in her eyes. ****"I miss ****being with you, Kitty…not just for…for what we did last night, but for this morning, too. I miss waking up with you beside me, with your arms around me. And I miss your laugh, your smile…" His voice trailed off, knowing he didn't have the words to tell her all that was in his heart. **

"**I know, Matt, I know. I miss everything about the years we had together, the love we shared."**

**He turned her onto her side and rested his hand on her hip. "We still share that love, Kitty, and we can have it all again. G****o back to Dodge with me."**

**She shook her head, pausing before speaking. "I can't, Matt. I have responsibilities in New Orleans. The business is still very new. Everything I have is invested in it—everything Ira and Charlotte have, too. I can't risk losing it, and I can't run a new business long distance. Ira's a good man and a wonderful friend and business partner, but he's never run a saloon…or a gambling establishment…before. I'm not comfortable being away for more than a few days at a time as it is. I can't walk out on him now."**

"**You and Ira?" He lifted an eyebrow.**

**She laughed. "Oh, heavens no, nothing like that. We grew up together. New Orleans, especially the French Quarter, is a very small place where everyone knows everyone else. Ira and I were playmates from the time we were in our cradles. We were five when Charlotte came along, and she was kind of like a doll for us to play with." She smiled at the memory. "But even way back then, he had eyes for no one but Charlotte. He's the one who held her hand when she was learning to walk, taught her to read, took her to her first cotillion. Ira's my cousin's husband, Matt, and he's a very old and very dear friend, but that's all." She thought a moment and caressed his jaw, his morning stubble prickly under her fingertips. "And, I've re-established ties with some of my old friends and classmates. Annabelle, Marguerite and I were inseparable when we were in school. And Lucy Crit—I'm sure you remember when her brother Billy came through Dodge years ago," she added wryly.**

"**I'm having fun with them, and I'm having a social life the likes of which I haven't known in more than twenty years. And I'm enjoying it!" She grinned and continued with a touch of sarcasm in her voice, "You might not believe this, Matt, but back when Marguerite and Belle and Lucy and I were school girls sharing secrets and dreams of the future, mine did _not_ include running a two-bit saloon in an ugly little cow town somewhere on the Kansas prairie selling ten cent rotgut to drovers and drifters and hiders who haven't seen a woman in six months and a bath tub in twice that long." **

"**I'm sorry, Kitty. I guess I never thought about how lonely it was for you in Dodge. You gave up a lot to stay with me—and you didn't get very much in return." ****He ran his index finger down her arm. "What were your dreams, Kitty? What school girl secrets did you share with your friends? Did they come true—any of them?"**

"**If I told you, they wouldn't be secrets, would they?" She demurred. "Let's just say that one of them came true. I did find a handsome prince to love and who loved me in return—even, even if it didn't work out quite the way I dreamed." She lowered her gaze and**** nestled in his arms for a moment, and then pushed back from his chest to see his face and to give him a tender smile. "Oh, Matt, don't ever think I regret staying…not one bit. And as for what I got in return, loving you and being with you—being your woman—was so…so wonderful, so amazing…that the things I might have been missing didn't matter." She paused and then met his eyes squarely. "And…for whatever it's worth, I'm still your woman, Matt. I always have been and I always will be. There's no one else…there couldn't be, not ever."**

"**But you still won't go back to Dodge?"**

**Again, she shook her head. "I can't. At least not right now. But it's not because of the business, and it's certainly not because of the social life. They aren't the real reason." She bit her lip as once again her honest eyes met his. "Truth is, I can't go back to watching you ride out into danger again and again. I can't go back to worrying and waiting for you to come home…waiting for a letter to arrive telling me that you've been killed—again. It was hard enough the first time, and that memory is still too fresh, too raw. Maybe someday, Matt, but not now."**

**He responded impulsively. "Then I'll quit. I don't need this job, and I don't need Dodge. I need you. I'll move to New Orleans and…"**

**She laughed. "Oh, Matt, listen to yourself. You need the job, you need Dodge, and what's more, Dodge needs you. You can't quit, Matt. At least not for me. When you decide to take off that badge, it has to be for all the right reasons and because you really want to—in here." She traced the warm flesh over his heart with a well-manicured finger. "It has to be because you don't have the fire anymore, because your blood no longer rushes when you see the draw or hear the shot or smell the gun smoke. Not because of me. Matt, you're as addicted to the law and justice as a gambler is to the cards or a drunk is to the bottle. I love you for even offering, but I can't let you do that. Oh, we'd have fun at first, but you'd end up being miserable in New Orleans and hating me, and that…well, that would be even worse than living without you."**

"**Then what…what are we going to do?" **

"**We're going to make love again…just as slow and sweet as we possibly can…and then I'm going to get dressed and get on that train and go back to my business and my responsibilities. And you're going to get on your train and go back to your job and the life you love." With those words she turned onto her back and tugged him once again into her arms, quivering at the feel of his lips against her heart.**

**x**

**The carriage ride to the train station was all too short, and while the porter attended to the luggage, Matt guided Kitty into a shadowed corner of the platform. They stared at each other for a long moment. Hearts and bodies had already spoken their good-byes, and all that was left was for their lips to do the same. **

**The conductor called the last "ALL ABOARD," and Kitty lifted her chin. "Take care of yourself, Cowboy."**

"**You, too, Kitty. If you ever need anything..." **

**Not trusting herself to say anything more, she removed one glove and traced his lips with trembling fingers. Then she squared her shoulders, turned away and climbed the four steps onto the train. Steam poured from beneath the wheels and swirled about the steps as the smokestack belched and the black behemoth gave its first lurch forward. **

"**Kitty!"**

**She turned. **

**He cupped his hands around his mouth, and his powerful voice shouted above the roar of the engine. "A year from today—meet me—hotel—one year from today."**

**The conductor grasped her elbow in an attempt to pull her through the door, but she gripped the hand rail and refused to budge until she had nodded her head vigorously and shouted back, "A year from today—same room—close to noon as we can make it. I'll be there. I promise."**

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Part 5**

**The tall lawman dre****w the lace curtain back from the window and bent slightly to get a better view of the busy street below. With every carriage that stopped in front of Kansas City's Grand Hotel, Matt Dillon eagerly anticipated the arrival of his redhead. But he was disappointed each time the portly doorman opened the carriage door to greet an arriving guest—everyone but the one person he was waiting for. Hours passed, and he watched the last of the sunlight flicker through the trees in the park across the street. A young man climbed a rickety ladder to light the lamps while an older one swept the paved street. A policeman walked his beat, swinging a night stick and bidding a greeting to all who passed by. **

**In the hotel room, the clock on the mantel rang eight high pitched bells, marking another hour. A knock at the door interrupted the chiming of the clock, and Dillon's long steps took him quickly to the door where a young boy handed him a slip of paper. "The answer to your message, sir." Unable to hide his disappointment at seeing the boy instead of the woman he loved, Matt muttered, "Thank you, son," and tipped him. He watched the boy move on down the hall, and then he turned back to the door, reading the room number once more-512. **

**Unbidden, his heart remembered the sweet, gentle kiss he and Kitty had shared a year ago in front of this very door. ****The excitement he had felt eight hours earlier turned to anxiety as darkness settled over the city. He struck a match to light the table lamp, and a soft glow washed over the room. He picked up the square bottle of Jack Daniel's, the whiskey Kitty had introduced him to the previous year, poured himself a drink, and settled his weary body on the settee, swirling the brown liquid in the glass before taking a large gulp. He closed his eyes and pictured Kitty with him, wanting to feel again the sense of calm and love that always enveloped him when she was near. Surely the time they had spent here twelve months earlier wasn't going to be only a memory. Even though they had maintained her edict of "no contact," it never occurred to him that she wouldn't come, and the promise of this reunion had been his beacon of light throughout the long year—the same light he had always looked for in the window on the second floor of the Long Branch. **

**Taking one more gulp of the brown liquor, Matt turned his attention back to the sheet of paper still in his hand, a hastily scribbled response to the inquiry he had sent to the Kansas City station master over an hour before:**

**New Orleans station master reports train left city yesterday on time. Trains are often late, Marshal –don't mean nothing.**

_**Curtis Willard, KC station master**_

**Rubbing a hand through his hair, Matt rose from the settee and made his way back to the window. The train had left New Orleans on time and, presumably, Kitty was on it. Not for the first time today, his lawman's instincts kicked in, and he stiffened his stance as tension filled his body and worry filled his mind. He wanted to go down to the train station himself and light a fire under Curtis Willard, but he also did not want to leave the room, didn't want to risk missing the arrival of the woman he loved. So he waited, standing once more in front of the window, hoping that when he looked out this time he would see Kitty Russell, but also contemplating what his next move would be. **

**Quietly turning the door knob and entering the hotel room, Kitty spotted Matt standing tall in his beige pants, vest and red shirt, deep in thought at the window. Even after all these years, just seeing him stirred her senses.**

"**Hello, Matt."**

**Dillon turned, and a broad smile creased his face. "Hello, Kitty. I was getting worried."**

"**It's not easy to wait, is it?" **

**He shook his head. "No, it's not easy." He crossed the room to close the gap between them, and they stared into each other's eyes for a long moment until Matt finally said, "I've been waiting a long time." Then he passionately embraced his lady with a hard and hungry kiss, loosening his arms only when she struggled to breathe. Drawing back, his eyes scanned her face. "You must be exhausted…and starved. Why don't you change and relax while I see if I can order us something to eat?"**

**By the time Kitty emerged from the bedroom in a lacy blue negligee and matching robe, her hair down and softly framing her face, her creamy skin glowing in the light of the fire, a serving cart laden with trays of cheeses, meats and warm bread had been placed in front of the settee and the Napoleon brandy had been poured. **

"**Everything looks wonderful, Matt." She joined him on the settee and leaned back with a sigh. "It's been a long two days." **

**Matt handed her one of the snifters, his fingers brushing hers.****"I was so worried. What caused the delay?" **

"**Don't know why I ever travel, Matt," she said with a slight laugh. "Cows…cows on the tracks. Can you believe it? It took hours to clear the way."**

"**Cows? That's all?" His chuckle was one of relief. "You can't imagine the things that were going through my mind. I was planning where I was going to begin my search…even thought about sending a wire to that business of yours to see if you were on the danged train. Does Ira know about…about us, by the way?"**

**She nodded. "He does. He and Charlotte know where I am and that I'm spending two wonderful weeks with the man I love. I'm sorry you were worried, but the train was in the middle of…well, I don't know exactly where we were. There was nothing around us but cows and fields of wheat…no town, no station, no telegraph office." She took a bite of the warm pumpernickel and smiled up at him. "So you were preparing to come to my rescue—again?"**

"**Always, Kitty…always." **

**She reached for his hand and glanced toward the window. "I can't count—can't even remember—how many hours I spent looking out the window of the Long Branch feeling that awful emptiness, not knowing where you were, how injured you might be, if you were coming home."**

**He reached his other hand out and gently touched her face. "I know, Kitty. I'm sorry for everything I ever put you through." **

"**I guess that's why I always treasured our time together." She turned her head and pressed her lips into his palm. Then ****she nestled back against his shoulder, and they sat in a calm silence, his long fingers caressing her skin through the delicate lace of her gown. No words were needed. Absence had given them a deeper appreciation of their love for one another. After the sandwiches had been eaten and the brandy was gone, after the fire had died to a few smoldering embers, Kitty took Matt's hand in hers and stood, pulling him up with her and nodding toward the bedroom. "Come on, Cowboy. Let's start our vacation." **

**XXX**

**Year after year on the same date, as close to noon as travel and train schedules would permit, Kitty Russell and Matt Dillon met in room 512 of Kansas City's old and elegant Grand Hotel for two glorious weeks of dining and sightseeing, talking and sharing their lives, retiring to their suite each night to renew their love in each other's arms. It was far from the ideal solution, but better than never seeing each other at all, and the anticipation of each rendezvous made the other fifty or so weeks of the year almost bearable. **

**On a dreary, rainy day, Kitty stepped down from the last step of the train onto the puddled platform. Elegant as always in her green velvet traveling suit, she barely noticed the admiring glances being cast her way as she waited for the redcap to gather her luggage and load it into the carriage. ****When all was secured, the driver slapped the reins, and they started to move through the crowded wet streets of Kansas City. As they reached the center of town, a horseless carriage chugged through a busy intersection, directly into their path. The driver grabbed the reins tighter and pulled back, causing the black horse to lose his footing and rear back, swaying the carriage from side to side and jostling the passenger within. **

"**Sorry, Miss," the driver yelled.**

**Re-gaining her balance, Kitty settled in her seat, smoothing out her skirt and checking the matching hat atop her head. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she listened to the rain hitting the roof and smiled. The near miss collision was but a small bump in the road. Nothing could keep her from meeting with the love of her life. **

**Another half hour and the carriage came to a stop in front of the massive brownstone building. The same portly doorman who had been there year after year opened the door for the stunning redhead and doffed his top hat. "Welcome to the Grand Hotel, Miss Russell," he greeted in his gravely baritone. "It's good to see you back again."**

"**Thank you, Morton. It's good to be back. How's that little grandson?" Kitty answered as she turned to tip the carriage driver.**

"**Growin' like a weed, ma'am," Morton replied and glanced over her left shoulder, watching Matt Dillon approach.**

"**Hello, Kitty."**

"**Hello, Matt," she said, turning and smiling at the big man. "When did you get here?"**

"**Just now."**

**She laughed. "Our timing has certainly improved over the years."**

**They looked into each other's eyes, each silently saying so much more. With a nod to the doorman and a quiet, "Take care of things, Morton," Matt placed his hand on Kitty's back and escorted her through the front door of the hotel. **

**x**

**The bellboy placed the luggage in the bedroom and started a fire to take the dampness off the suite. Then he accepted a tip from the lawman and nodded a thank you as he closed the door to room 512, leaving them alone. **

**With a smile, the still ruggedly handsome man looked at his lovely lady. He tossed his hat on the nearest table and quickly crossed the room. Arms reached out to each other, aching for that first embrace, and lips too long denied the other's taste, met anew.**

"**Now that's what I call a welcome," Kitty whispered. Taking her left hand, she gently stroked his cheek, moving her fingers slowly through his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. "I swear they're adding more months to the years, Matt. I can't believe how long it's been since I've held you."**

"**I know, Kitty. It gets harder and harder to stay away from you." He kissed her again and placed his hands on her waist and hips, savoring the feel of her. "Hungry?"**

"**Starved." Her sultry whisper told him she wasn't talking about a need for food.**

**He grinned. "Me, too…" He broke off and looked embarrassed as a loud rumble emerged from deep in his stomach. **

"**But making love with those particular sound effects isn't all that romantic. Let's get you some lunch, Cowboy."**

"**We don't have to go back out in the rain. Room service or the dining room?"**

"**We can go out. I know you want to stretch your legs, and so do I." She tilted her head upward and smirked. "Don't worry, Cowboy, I'm sure we'll have plenty of indoor time."**

**Lunch at a tearoom three blocks away was delicious, although neither could have told an inquiring passerby what they were eating, for the meal was not where their attention was focused. On the walk back to the hotel, Kitty suggested they stop in an antique shop and Matt browsed a newstand—a little game each knew the other was playing to prolong the anticipation of their coming together. When the agony of expectation could be contained no longer, they returned to their suite and moved into each other's arms. Her hands slid up his chest, reaching for his string tie, while his fingers tugged at the buttons of her silk blouse. Coat, shirt, pants, blouse, and skirt left a trail from the sitting room to the bedroom. **

**Kitty woke in the dark room with the feeling she was alone. She smoothed her hand across the bed, not surprised to find it empty. **

"**Matt?"**

**She reached for her robe, stepped through the trail of clothes and looked into the sitting room. He was there, just as she knew he would be, staring into the fire, deep in thought. Tan pants, no shirt or shoes. She sucked in a breath and smiled. He still looked good after all these years.**

"**Did I wake you, Kitty?"**

"**Want to tell me what's bothering you?"**

"**What makes you think anything is bothering me?"**

"**I know you, Matt Dillon."**

"**You want a brandy?" He walked to the table and poured two snifters.**

**She watched him as he sipped the liquor, obviously searching for the right words. She would wait. The clock above the fireplace rang three bells, piercing the silence of the early morning.**

"**I sure missed you, Kitty."**

"**Me, too, Matt, but this is more than missing me. What's wrong?"**

"**This is hard…it's Doc."**

**A sick fear washed over Kitty and she barely got the next word out. "Doc?"**

"**He took ill a few weeks ago, but…" He shook his head. "Dodge won't be the same." **

**The brandy glass slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor. "Oh, no, not Doc."**

**Matt took her into his arms and held her as she sobbed against his shoulder, both knowing they had lost an important part of their lives, their family. Drying her eyes, she said, "I should have known something was wrong. I didn't get an answer to my last letter. But why didn't you tell me…why didn't someone let me know when he first took sick?"**

"**He didn't want to worry you…made me promise not to tell you until we were together. And he did write to you, honey. He gave me a letter for us to read together."**

**Kitty looked at the envelope through tear-filled eyes, recognizing Doc's scrawl. With a trembling hand she opened the letter and read Doc's words aloud:**

_**My Dearest Matt and Kitty,**_

_**I requested that danged fool of a marshal and his beautiful saloon owner be together when reading this, for that is where you belong, my friends-together.**_

_**I want to tell you a story, one that began many years ago on a rainy day in the dreary little town of Dodge City. A light entered the marshal's eyes that day when a beautiful and confident young lady walked into his life. I was there, and I saw the instant connection between you two.**_

_**The brash young lawman believed there was no place for a woman in his line of work. The young woman was trying to make her own way in the world, and so their struggle began. Loving each other was the easy part. Worrying about and protecting each other was the difficult part.**_

_**Matt, you always carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. Can't believe I'm saying this, but Chester was right all those years ago. There are few men who can do what you do. Whether you know it or not, you need Kitty. I even heard you say it that long awful night when our world was nearly destroyed.**_

_**Kitty, you always worried about others and worked to help them. Your biggest worry was the marshal. I sat with you many hours when Matt was gone too long. I've seen a piece of you die each time I dug a bullet out of him. I know the strain took its toll. It became more difficult each year, so much so, you finally went away.**_

_**All that was left was two lonely people with a deep love for each other inside, yet living apart. I tell you this because every story needs a happy ending.**_

_**A few years ago, I saw the light once again come into the marshal's eyes. My letters from Kitty became light-hearted and alive, and I know the light was again shining in her eyes, too.**_

_**For two weeks every year you get together to renew the love you share. I ask that somehow, some way, you work it out to be together all the time. For a love as deep as yours should not be wasted.**_

_**You might believe this is a sad time, but it isn't. I've had a long and good life, and I've shared it with my two closest friends, my family.**_

_**With all my love and respect,**_

_**Doc **_

**Kitty held tight to Matt with one hand and to Doc's letter with the other. In a voice thick with tears she said, "He was a wise old man."**

**"Yeah, and I'll say this—he sure was a good cow doctor," Matt chuckled. **

"**Where is he…where did you bury him?"**

"**Well, there was some discussion about that. The commandant over at Fort Dodge offered the fort cemetery, and Ma Smalley offered her rose garden, but Festus said, **_**'wunst when me 'n ol' Doc was fishin,' he done tol' me there ain't no more peacesome place on this earth than the banks o' this here creek.'**_** So, that's what we did, Kitty. We buried him on the banks of Silver Creek." Matt stopped and thumbed the tears from Kitty's cheeks. "The entire town turned out for the funeral, and a lot of folks said a few words over him." He stopped again and smiled softly at the memory. "Festus said, **_**'You**_** c**_**atch thet big un fer us, you ol' scudder.'"**_

**Kitty's tears flowed again as she said, "I like that…like to think of Doc's body going back to nature. How is Festus?"**

"**It hit him hard, he headed into the hills, but he'll be back…I think…I hope."**

"**This is so difficult, Matt. Doc was…I'll miss him…his letters, his wisdom."**

"**Me, too."**

"**Oh, Matt. How are **_**you**_**? I know you loved him, too."**

"**I'm all right, Kitty, but I…right now could we go back in there," he nodded toward the bedroom, "and just hold each other?"**

**She smiled and took his hand. "Of course. Come on, Cowboy. Let's hold on to what we have."**

**x**

**Two more days of rain kept the lovers mostly indoors, but when the skies cleared, they walked the streets of the city, window shopping and stopping for food and drink in small cafes or tearooms along their route. They had long talks about their lives, their conversation interspersed with memories of Doc, stories that made them laugh—and some that made them cry. ****On the next to last day of their vacation, they strolled through the park, stopping to rest on an old wooden bench. ****Kitty looked up at Matt and said softly, "I still can't get used to Doc's being gone. I thought he was going to be with us forever."**

"**Me, too. He left us some advice, you know. Do you think we should take it?"**

"**With everything we've been through, we deserve some happiness together. We have separate lives in separate places, you're still wearing that badge and I still have a business to run, but I'm willing to work on it if you are." **

"**We have a lot to work on and it won't be easy, but it never has been easy for us, has it?"**

"**Hardly, and I don't think anything will change tomorrow, but it will change some day, Matt. For Doc." Kitty leaned toward Matt and the two embraced. "And for us," she added.**

**The next day the platform at the train station was busy when Matt and Kitty were leaving. **

"**Kitty, we still have decisions to make," Matt said.**

"**I know, Matt, but we'll get there. We'll write. We'll work this out. Just know that I love you and stay safe for me. I'll see you next year—same time, same place."**

**He took her into his arms, and, for the first time in his life, Matt Dillon didn't care who saw him kiss his woman. "Same time, same place, Kitty. I'll be here." **

**But he wasn't. **

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**HELLO, KITTY **

**Part 6**

**Kitty waited in the hotel room throughout the long afternoon, confident he would be there soon. Ten years they had been meeting in Kansas City, and he had never missed the noon rendezvous by more than an hour or two. As afternoon gave way to nightfall, her confidence turned to anxiety and her anxiety to panic as she repeatedly checked both the front desk and the telegraph office across the street for a message. A message that never came.**

**x**

**Matt Dillon shifted his big body on the narrow bed, and a low groan escaped his lips. He opened his eyes and squinted into the semi-darkness of the shaded room. The slender figure in the rocking chair came slowly into focus, and his heart began to pound. "Kitty?"**

"**Welcome back."**

**She moved gracefully across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, her cool hand stroking the damp curls back from his forehead.**

"**Kitty," he said again, still incredulous that she was there. "What are you doing here?"**

"**You stood me up, Cowboy." Despite her words, her tone was gentle, and her loving eyes smiled down at him.**

"**I stood...?" He frowned. "Kansas City? But it's not…how long have I been here? And where, exactly, **_**is**_** 'here'?"**

"**Almost three weeks. They didn't expect you to live."**

"**Three weeks?" he interrupted in disbelief. His eyes scanned the room. "This looks familiar."**

"**It ought to," Kitty told him. "You've been patched up in here enough times."**

"**Doc's office?"**

**Kitty nodded. "Dodge City, Kansas."**

"**You came all the way up here from New Orleans?" **

**She smiled. "Somebody needed to take care of you, and old habits die hard. Besides, I was already in Kansas City and…and when you didn't show up at the hotel, I knew something had to be terribly wrong." Her voice broke on the last words, and she took a breath. "I…so I wired Newly to see if he had seen you or heard anything. He wired back that you…that you were here. I got on the next train."**

**He nodded in understanding.****"You shouldn't have come, but I'm glad you're here…and I'm sorry I stood you up." He grimaced as pain shot through his body. "Believe me, it was unintentional."**

**x**

**The stab wound in Dillon's side was long and deep, and his recovery was slow and painful, his body no longer able to bounce back with the resilience it once had. One rainy afternoon, he and Kitty were playing checkers, he propped against the pillows and she seated in a chair close by the side of the bed. Matt mindlessly pushed little black pieces across the board with one long finger, his eyes focused on her bent head, barely glancing at the board on the table between them. **

**Kitty captured his last piece and looked up with an impish grin. "You're not concentrating. I just beat you three games straight." Then she sobered. "What's wrong, Matt?"**

"**I've been thinking—you came here either to nurse me or to bury me, right?" **

**Kitty looked at him for a long moment. "Well, yes, something like that."**

"**So, once I'm on my feet again, you'll be going back to New Orleans." It was a flat statement, not a question.**

**Kitty nodded. "Just long enough to re-pack," she answered quietly. "I…Matt, I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you this. I'm leaving New Orleans."**

**When he didn't respond, she continued. "Oh, Matt, I had lots of news, exciting news, that I was going to share with you in Kansas City, but somehow it's more difficult to say the same things here in Dodge. It will mean some changes—changes for me and for…well…for us."**

**His body tensed, but his only words were, "Go on."**

"**Okay, but first, let me backtrack a bit. You know Ira and I have had great success with the paddle wheelers. We have three of 'em going up and down the river now, all the way to Galena, Illinois."**

**When he nodded, she continued. "And in the spring we'll be launching a fourth, **_**The Mississippi Queen.**_** But we'll be launching her in northern waters, not in New Orleans. We've expanded the business, and the **_**Miss **_**will be the first of what we hope will be a fleet of gambling palaces that originates up north and travels south."**

"**How far north are you talking about?" **

"**Mmm, pretty far. The office will be in Minneapolis—just up river from the capital. It will be our northern terminus, and I…well, I'm going to manage things up there. So, as soon as I get back to New Orleans, I'll be packing for Minnesota. You ever been there?"**

"**Once—back in '67, when I was ridin' scout for the cavalry. Lots of lakes and forests. Gets damned cold, too." He paused and then asked quietly, "Why you, why can't Ira go?"**

**Kitty laughed. "Oh, Matt, you really don't know Ira, do you? He's a wonderful, wonderful person, and a dear, sweet friend—and he's turned into an amazingly good manager and business man, too—but he'd be as out of his element in Minnesota, or anywhere else outside of his beloved French Quarter, as…as Festus would be at a state dinner at the White House. Besides, Charlotte doesn't want to leave. Their children are grown now, and Arianna's expecting a baby soon, so Charl wants to stay there to be grandmamma. No, Matt, I'm the logical person to go—the one with no strings, no ties to keep me in New Orleans," a tinge of wistfulness crept into her voice, "or any place else, for that matter." **

"**It's awful far away, Kitty, and you'll be all alone. Not that I think you can't do it, but…" **

**Certain the flicker of pain that crossed his face had more to do with her words than with the wound in his side, she hurried to continue. "There's more. Ira and I have discussed this. And Jean-Baptiste, too. Remember, he heads our security team. The northern office will need a security team, too, and someone to head it." She paused and took a deep breath. "Ira and I would like to offer you that job." **

**He was silent for a long time—mouth tight, eyes lowered so that she couldn't see the conflicting emotions in their quiet depths. Finally, he leaned back into the pillows and answered quietly. "Please don't try to buy me, Kitty."**

**Stunned, she rushed to defend herself. "That's not what I mean, Matt. I…we're not trying to buy you. Dear God, as if that would even be possible! We **_**will**_** need security for the Minneapolis-St. Paul division. I'm proud to say our tables turn over an amazing amount of money each night. But we don't need someone just to guard the money. We need someone who knows law—federal law—and who can handle men—and women—too. That's you, Matt. Years ago, when Ira and I started this business, he hired Jean-Baptiste Duvall because he was an old friend, someone Ira knew and trusted with both his money and his life. Surely, I deserve no less." She busied herself with closing the checkerboard and returning the pieces to their box. "And, it's…it's a way to honor Doc's request, you know."**

**He sighed. "I can't take your money, Kitty. No way can I do that."**

**She pushed the small table aside and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in hers. "It's not _my_ money, Matt. It's the company's money. Penn-Russ Paddlewheelers, Incorporated, will pay you a salary, same as it pays Jean-Baptiste and his team, same as it pays the dealers, same as it pays the musicians and hostesses. Hell, same as it pays Ira—and me, for that matter. You'd earn a fair salary for the job you'd be doing."**

"**Kitty, I…" He stopped and closed his eyes for several long minutes, watching his life twist and turn before him in a kaleidoscope of memories. He could feel her fingers turning icy as she waited for his response, and he knew he couldn't let her go, not again. Finally, he blew out a breath and squeezed her hand. "Then I s'pose I better hurry up and get out of this bed if I'm going to be expected to earn my keep." **

"**You mean it, Matt?" Her eyes danced with delight. "You'll really go with me…and you'll take the job?" **

**He nodded. "I'll go with you, Kitty, and I'll take the job." His blue eyes twinkled, as he added,****"You know, my side's feeling a lot better, and we haven't…unh…" He shifted his long legs and patted the space beside him. "Join me?"**

**She grinned at him. "I'll join you, but no funny business. I want the head of my security team to be in tiptop condition." As she spoke, she kicked off her shoes and stretched out beside him on the narrow bed, reaching again for his hand on the counterpane. **

**XXX**

**Nearly two months later, **_**The New Orleans Lady**_** pulled away from its slip at the foot of Decatur Street and steamed north through the rolling waters of the mighty Mississippi. The male passengers smiled and tipped their hats to the stunning redhead on board, and the female passengers craned their necks for a backward glance at the tall and ruggedly handsome man at her side, never dreaming they were witnessing yet another chapter of the longest non-permanent relationship in history.**

**Matt leaned against the railing and slipped his arm around Kitty's waist, letting his body shield her from the northern wind. His eyes were on the distant shore, but his mind was on the tiny blue velvet bag secreted away inside his valise—Doc's bequest and final silent plea—the simple gold wedding band won from a whiskey drummer so many years before. **

**The End**


End file.
